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A Game of Cat and Mouse	By : bohemianlove Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Harry/Hermione Views: 34014 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1-A Game of Cat and Mouse
- 2-A New Game
- 1
- 2
A/N: Well, I decided to write a second installment in this
universe, inspired largely in part by a manip mmefleiss did for the first part, located here - http://mmefleiss.livejournal.com/51270.html
- which is NOT work safe, by the way.� It
is lovely, however, and it made me want to write some wilderness smut.� So here you go.

~

She thought things would be easier after they had sex.� She thought she�d be able to focus, that
she�d be satisfied.

Instead, the problem is worse.� Every hour of every day, she feels his eyes
on her, and her blood rises in response, flushing her skin, and at those times,
she can think of nothing but having his hands on her.

They only spend their days in the wilderness now, finding
what shelter they can for the nights.�
They don�t get as much sleep as they should, naked and tangled under
their sheets.� Harry finds his way inside
her at least once a night, sometimes twice, sometimes more.� He never tires of her, and she is glad
because she doesn�t know what she would do if he stopped touching her.

He no longer watches her bathe; he helps.� Usually, they have a bathroom where they
stay.� He follows her into the shower,
washes her hair with firm but gentle fingers, lathers
the soap between his hands before he spreads it over her body, over her breasts
� suds clinging to her nipples � down her stomach, between her legs.� Sometimes he�ll let her rinse off before he
takes her against the shower wall.�
Sometimes he can�t wait, and she likes those times better.� Those are the times when he thrusts into her
as if his life depends upon it and when they finish, she has to clutch him to
stay standing.

Sometimes there is only a bathtub, and then their activities
make a terrible mess.� They are too
enthusiastic to avoid sloshing.

And then there are the times when there is no bath, and they
go back to the streams to bathe.� Harry
isn�t so helpful then; he likes the way her nipples harden in the cold and the
way her skin looks against the autumn leaves.�
He washes her a little unconventionally then, with his tongue, following
the trails of water along her body right into the crevice between her
legs.� She doesn�t mind his methods.

Now and then, she wonders how much of what they do is about
them and how much is about escape.� She
knows she loves him with every ounce of her being.� He has been her world for as long as she can
remember.� He is her purpose in
life.�

Their sex isn�t often loving,
though.� It�s hurried and rough and
animalistic.� There are no leisurely
caresses or tender gazes.

One day, they are walking, quite ordinarily through another
ordinary wood.� They don�t speak; there�s
nothing much left to talk about.� Harry
walks slightly behind her, and she can feel his eyes on her, so she chooses to
provoke him.� Subtly, but with rather
good acting skill, she thinks, she drops her wand, and bends over at the waist
to retrieve it.

When she stands up, he is upon her, turning her around
forcefully.� She sees a flash of fire in
his eyes before his lips are crashing onto hers, invading her.� She welcomes him in, undeniably turned on by
his aggression.� She wants to be taken.

He turns them, and then her back is against a tree.� The lumpy bark jabs into her skin, but the
feeling only adds to the growing arousal between her legs.� She wants him there as soon as possible.

His hands burrow under her shirt and palm and squeeze her
bare breasts as he continues his assault on her mouth.� She is moaning, keening, arching into his
rough hands that pinch and tease her nipples.

His hands slip down and his lips shift to her neck as she
clings to her shoulders, and she is about to protest when she feels him pop the
button of her jeans and tug down the zipper.�
She struggles for breath as he shoves down her pants and his teeth nip
at her skin.� Her underwear is next, the
elastic biting into her skin as he yanks them down.� With one hand he struggles to undo his own
fastenings; with the other, he probes her sex, torturing her clit and pressing
firmly inside her with two fingers.� She
moans and tries desperately to kick her pants off over her shoes; eventually,
she decides to rid herself of all of it, shoes included.

He finally opens his pants and pushes them down with his
boxers, freeing his upright cock.�
Hermione is completely ready when he hoists her up, the tree scratching
her bum, and nothing short of impales her.

She curses loudly as he his thrusts begin, hard, fast, and
deliberate.� The rough
friction, inside and out, sets her ablaze.� Soon she is only whimpering, almost crying as
the sensation threatens to consume her completely.� She needs release like she never has before.

Harry grunts and growls like a rutting animal as he nears
his climax, and she is begging for hers, clutching all around him, digging her
fingers into his shoulders.

Then it is upon her, flaring up inside her, and she almost
sobs in relief.� She clenches and then
explodes, crying out into the forest.�
Fire flows through her veins and she shudders, completely overcome as he
cries out his release and spills out inside her.

As her nerves settle down to a slow tingle and her legs
start to shake, she realizes he hasn�t even taken the knapsack off his
back.� She wonders what drives them to
this, to this frantic coupling at the faintest signal.

They clean themselves up and carry on.

And through this sexual haze, they are getting no closer to
their goal.� They�ve found not one horcrux in the many places they�ve searched.� Each failure leaves Harry more frustrated, and Hermione more hopeless.� She has no answers for him, and she doesn�t
know how to find them.� She doesn�t know
why she�s there if she can�t help him.

He is cursing as they come out of another cave empty-handed.� She is silent, solemn.

�Let�s find somewhere to stay while there�s still light,� he
says, briskly, and she can only nod and follow.

They find an inn in a small village, a little shabby, but
clean.� Harry takes his shower without
her and goes to bed.� She has her turn in
the bathroom and stays up, reading, researching.� She must find the answers.

Hours later, her eyes are beginning to blur, but she presses
on.

�Hermione, come to bed,� Harry says, startling her.� She turns in her chair to look at him.

�I�m not done yet.�

�You�re going to be too tired to walk tomorrow.� Come to bed,� he tells her, and reluctantly,
she does so, feeling his words like a weight.�
She is a burden now.� She has no
answers, and she cannot find them; if she keeps searching, she won�t be able to
keep up.� She has nothing to offer.

Reluctantly, she turns out the light she�s been reading by
and joins him in the small, rickety bed.�
He draws her into his arms, but she feels more isolated from him than
ever.� She thinks he is sleeping when she
starts to cry, but he is awake to notice.

�What�s wrong, Hermione?� he asks quietly.

She tenses, sorry to have shown him anything.� She would rather suffer in silence.

�Nothing.�

�Don�t lie to me,� he says, eyes glittering in the
darkness.� �I know you better than that.�

She sighs and looks away. ��I can�t find the answers anymore,� she
says.� �I can�t help you�I have nothing
left to offer.�

�Hermione, I don�t need you for answers.� I need you because you keep me sane.�� He pulls her closer and kisses the back of
her neck.� �You�re the reason I get up
every morning.� I couldn�t do this
without you.�

She wants to believe him, wants to be needed and loved, but
she needs proof.� She turns over and
reaches for him under the covers.�

�Is it�because of the sex?� she asks.

�No!� I mean, it�s
great, but it�s because of you,
just�who you are.� I mean, that�s why I
can�t keep my hands off you.� It�s
just�you.� I need you.�

She sighs and sinks into his embrace.� �Really?�

�Really,� he kisses her forehead and traces down her
spine.� She tilts her head up and finds
his lips, chapped but eager for hers.�
Her body molds against his and all is right with the world again.

He rolls her gently onto her back, still kissing her with a
slow passion that spreads heat throughout her body.� No one but Harry has this effect on her.

Off goes the T-shirt she put on for bed, replaced by Harry�s
hands, stroking fire over her stomach and breasts.� She writhes and his mouth moves to better
satisfy her, suckling down her neck, to her chest, where he licks and bites her
nipples until she wants to beg him to get inside her.

Lavishing kisses on her stomach, he peels off her flimsy
cotton panties, fingers trailing down her legs as he does so, making her squirm
again.� He�s very good at what he does.

Back up her legs he goes, up to her center that burns for
him.� He caresses her aching clit with
his tongue, probes inside her just enough to tease, strokes
her trembling thighs with steady hands.�
She whimpers.

Still working her closer to the edge, he removes his boxers
and slides up her body, his chest brushing against hers as his manhood brushes
against her folds.� She reaches for him,
consumed by the need to touch him, to feel the hard muscle of his back and know
he�s hers.

Harry kisses her deeply and then his cock surges inside her.� She moans, ecstatically full.

He moves over her and inside her, pushing another thought
from her mind with every thrust and every brush of skin on skin.� His lips meet hers often, as if he�s
desperate for them to be joined every way possible.� She knows the feeling well.

She is flooded with heat, struck with a new wave of tingling
pleasure every time he moves inside her, caressing her sensitive walls, and she
clutches at him, feeling her release growing closer�eminent, so that unless he
stops this very moment, she will come gloriously.

He thrusts into her again, panting into her ear as he does
so, and the whisper of breath beckons her to her release, to clench all around
him and cry out as she is taken over completely by sensation, lights flashing behind
her eyelids as her climax hits every nerve in her body.

She bucks against him and trembles with aftershocks,
sparks still flying where they�re joined and her toes still curled with
pleasure.

He grows frantic as he continues pumping into her, almost
growling as he chases her release, and she helps him on, pressing against him
and kissing his mouth and neck and squeezing him inside her, urging him to let
go.

He does so with a cry and after a few sharp thrusts as he
explodes within her, he collapses against her, his sweaty body covering her own
as he catches his breath.

�That might be the best it�s ever been,� she whispers, and
he doesn�t reply verbally, but she feels his enthusiastic nod against her
shoulder.

He rolls over and gathers her against him.� Their skin sticks slightly as she slides her
thigh over his.

�I love you,� she admits, looking not into his eyes but at
the smooth skin of his shoulder.

�I love you, too,� he says.�
She meets his eyes in the darkness and knows that it�s true.

They�ll be all right.

The End

Again.

A/N 2: This isn�t going to be a WIP now.� It�s just become a two-shot instead of a
one-shot.� No more chapters, unless I get
inspired again.
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- 2
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A Game of Cat and Mouse